


An Exeptional Life

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Spark Bond, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1905672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl and Jazz have an exceptional life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exeptional Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wicked3659](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/gifts).



> there hasn't been nearly enough fluffy Prowl/Jazz fic lately, so i wrote some.

_We were pinned down, there were Seekers flying overhead and dropping bombs on our position and we didn't have a shred of hope left for our own survival. We didn't even have a functional comm unit between the six of us; no one would know what happened until they stumbled over our corpses. This wasn't my first combat, not even my first time on the front and pinned down by heavy enemy fire, but it certainly looked like it would be my last._

_And then he came up over the ridge, like a carbon-smudged avatar of Primus Himself. I still don't know how he got there, but I had never seen a prettier sight._

_His name was Prowl and he was the mech with the extraction plan. I think I fell in love at that exact moment._

_**Autobot Jazz, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

_I first met Jazz as an officer in the tactical unit long before he met me, though I wasn't exposed to him physically until he had been a member of the army for almost a vorn. In hindsight, that seems extraordinary; everyone knew Jazz, at least in passing. Still, he had my attention based solely on his performance in the field and the rumors among the staff about his prowess in restoring flagging morale._

_It was not until I met him in person, during the Battle at the Darkmount Flats, and saw how deeply concerned he was for the welfare of his small unit that I began to see him as more than a simple soldier. He became real that day, in a way I had not predicted._

_If I were a religious mech, I might believe that our meeting under those ideal circumstances, was deliberate maneuvering by a higher being. It certainly wasn't deliberate on my part like certain mechs have implied; I had lost track of the special operations unit during the battle._

_**Autobot Prowl, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Prowl had heard the same phrase thousands of times, for an equal number of reasons, but he didn't quite understand why Jazz sounded so wary and hesitant when he used it. The visored mech had never been called into his office for a disciplinary action or reassignment due to poor behavior. He managed to hide a frown, but only barely. It surprised him to realize that he didn't like it when Jazz sounded nervous.

"I did. Please come in, and close the door behind you." When the ops mech had done as requested, the Autobot second gestured him to the chair in front of his desk. "I want your opinion on the Highbrow incident, Jazz. Something about the situation seems off, and I would like some inside perspective."

"Inside perspective?" Jazz sat down. "I thought you had him in custody. Doesn't get more inside than that."

Prowl drummed his fingers on his desk for a moment, deciding what was safe to tell the younger mech. He believed Jazz was trustworthy, but many of the other officers had their doubts. "Jazz, anything we discuss cannot leave this room. Officially, we are not having this conversation and any information you give me will have come from an anonymous source. I want you to consider the next thing I tell you to be classified at the highest possible level."

"I'm not cleared that high," the younger mech replied, frowning.

"You are now," the Praxian informed him. "Consider this your unofficial promotion."

"Slow down and back up a few steps." Jazz looked stunned, though it was hard to tell with the visor. "I think we need to start over."

Prowl shook his head. "Jazz, Highbrow is dead. You are being promoted into his position, because there is no one else that Optimus and I agree we can trust with the responsibility. The only people who outrank you now are Optimus, Ratchet and myself."

"But, sir, I'm not in the chain of command. I'm not even training to be in command."

"Neither was Optimus," the tactician pointed out. "Like him, you are capable of leading. Other mechs will trust and follow you."

"I just don't know. It's not something I ever considered." Jazz looked down at the floor. "I don't even know how to be an officer."

Prowl noticed that he did not say he didn't know how to lead. "You can be given training on the behaviors required of an officer. Please, Jazz, the Autobots need you. I need you."

Prowl hated to sound so vulnerable, but it was true. He did need someone in Special Operations he could trust. 

Finally, slowly, Jazz nodded. "Sure, I get that. Neither of us could work with an ops head we can't trust. I'm still not sure I'm the mech for the job, but I'll give it everything I've got."

The elder mech smiled with relief. "Thank you."

 

_I was so happy when Prowl and Jazz became friends. Not because Prowl didn't have friends, because he does even if he doesn't make them very easily, but because they both needed someone to confide in. They needed someone with high enough security clearance that they could talk about the really dark stuff to. Prowl and I were always close, but he couldn't just tell me things, even when he needed to. Jazz gave him someone to really talk to, and Prowl did the same for him._

_**Autobot Bluestreak, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

"Here you go, Prowl. All our field reports in a timely manner, Ironhide's requisition forms for the meta-cycle, one cube of energon--slightly chilled--and two rust sticks."

Prowl had been nodding absently as Jazz spoke, cataloging the information and preparing the correct response as he worked, but the last item on the list grabbed his attention completely. "Rust sticks?"

"Rust sticks." The saboteur grinned. "I seemed to recall a late cycle conversation about someone missing them."

"Well, yes," the tactician replied with a candor he showed few mechs. "But where did you find them?"

"I didn't find them. I made them." Jazz's grin widened. "One of my very earliest covers was as an apprentice at a sweet shop in Kaon. I learned about more than just the governing structure while I was there."

"I knew you had a wealth of hidden talent, but this was one I wasn't anticipating." Prowl took one of the rust sticks when his friend held them out and bit off the end. He smiled as he chewed and his sensors lit up with pleasure at the flavor. "These are perfect. Almost a match for the flavor of the Rust sticks I used to get from the market by the Enforcer's station."

"Blue and Sideswipe helped me find a Praxian recipe. I thought that would be closer to what you liked than what we used in Kaon."

"I don't know. I've never had rust sticks that didn't come from Praxus or Iacon. I would be most interested in trying any others you cared to make."

Jazz's happiness felt like it was radiating off his frame. "Anything for you, Prowl. Just gotta cultivate more rust first. Don't bust Sideswipe's current high grade still for a while, by the way. The condensation from the tank is my oxidizing agent."

"I trust that you will insure a responsible distribution of the contraband, then?"

"Of course I will."

 

_I won't say that I never expected them to get together, but if Smokescreen had ever approached me to join his illegal gambling pool, I would have bet against it. It wasn't a tactically sound idea, and almost all of Prowl's decisions have to be due to his programming, and it was no secret that Jazz enjoyed a wide variety of berth partners. Even I had the pleasure of interfacing with Jazz more than once._

_I think that I believed Jazz would never be able to settle down and that Prowl would never allow himself to be so vulnerable. Rarely am I so very wrong, but in this case I'm glad I was. They are one formidable team._

_**Autobot Red Alert, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

"Jazz, you're exhausted and loitering in the med bay will not speed up Bumblebee's repair time." Prowl rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Ratchet can work his miracles, with or without you."

"I need to be here when he wakes up," the younger mech replied, not looking away from the tiny observation window that gave him glimpses of the surgery going on inside. "This was his first Op and he nearly died because of a mistake I made."

"You did not make a mistake any more than I did while we were planning. Bumblebee's inexperience did not help him, but this should have been a simple mission. There was no way to predict Skywarp's presence in the Decepticon base." The tactician reached out with his free hand and grabbed the saboteur's other shoulder. Carefully, fully aware of the other's deadly potential if he took offense to being manhandled, Prowl turned Jazz away from the window to face him. "You are not responsible for his injuries. And you will not be able to support him if you are offline on your feet. You need recharge."

"Prowl, I have--"

"To recharge. I will order you to go, if I have to."

Jazz's posture slumped and he looked utterly defeated. "I'm not sure being alone is such a good idea for me right now."

"Then you can stay in my quarters." For any other mech but Optimus he wouldn't even offer, but Jazz had creeped into a special place in his spark. "My berth is large enough for three mechs. We will both be able to recharge."

Wearily, the visored mech nodded. Prowl knew he was right about Jazz's state of exhaustion, if the other mech gave in so easily. "All right. As long as I'm really not putting you out of your own berth."

"You will not be. Come." The elder mech released the younger's shoulders so that he could wrap an arm around Jazz's back and guide him to the door.

Jazz leaned into the comforting touch and allowed himself to be led from the medbay. The Praxian steered them down the halls toward his quarters without hurrying the exhausted saboteur. Jazz needed comfort as much as he needed rest. 

Prowl opened the door with an encrypted data burst when they arrived, then guided the other mech inside. The saboteur slowed more once the door was safely closed behind them, every line in his body conveying his need for rest. 

The tactician would have preferred that Jazz take at least one energon ration before going into recharge, but that seemed unlikely at best.

"Which way to this berth, Prowl? You weren't wrong about how tired I am."

"Straight back, past the divider screen. You can't miss it."

"I've heard that before." Jazz's smile was weak.

"Truly, you can't. I had to put up the screen because you can see the berth from the door." Prowl nudged the shorter mech forward so they could go into the berthroom. "I'm not certain these quarters were ever finished. There is no berthroom door and no stall for the washrack."

"Lucky you."

"I could have it much worse. Ironhide's room has no plumbing system."

"So that's why he uses the public washrack. I always wondered about that." The visored mech stepped around the divider and into the berthroom. "Is it all right if I recharge on the outside? I do better when I'm facing the door."

"Of course." Prowl had expected that request, based on Jazz's need to be facing the door in any room he entered. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks." Jazz crossed the room and flopped down onto the taller mech's berth. He sighed as he sunk into the plush padding. "How did you rate a berth like this?"

"One of the few perks of my rank I have ever bothered to claim." Prowl crawled into the berth and settled in behind the saboteur. "A long time ago, I had a relationship with a mech large enough to require the space. I simply haven't given it up since."

"Someday you'll have to tell me about him." The visored mech's voice grew softer as he powered down.

"Someday," the Praxian agreed.

"Can I cuddle?" Jazz asked softly, clearly more in recharge than awake. "Liked how it felt when you had your arm around me."

"Yes, you can cuddle." It wasn't the sort of thing Prowl usually indulged in, but for Jazz he would give in to such a simple request. Rather than making the younger mech move, he slid forward and wrapped an arm around the other mech's waist. "Rest well, Jazz."

"Night, Prowl." Jazz's visor switched off and his systems settled into the even hum of recharge. "Love you."

If he hadn't been so close, Prowl might have missed the softly whispered words.

 

_Are you kidding? Those two were made for each other. Primus himself put them in the same chain of command so they could balance each other out and that extended right on into the berthroom. If they hadn't gotten together, I think I would have deactivated from the shock of it._

_**Autobot Ratchet, "Memiors of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

Prowl stepped hesitantly into the common room, unsure of what to expect. Jazz had invited him to this party--had practically insisted he come, in fact--but he was very much out of his depth when surrounded by loud music and boisterous crowds. 

"Hey, you made it!" Jazz's happy voice cut across the noise, followed by the saboteur a moment later. The shorter mech wrapped his arms around the tactician's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Thanks for coming."

"For you, anything." Prowl gave the visored mech a small smile. "You have an uncanny way of pulling me outside my comfort zone."

"Believe me, I've noticed." Jazz's grin was unrepentant. "Still means a lot, though. I know crowds and parties aren't your thing."

"Being with you will make it more bearable, though I don't plan to make it a habit."

"I wouldn't expect you to." The visored mech leaned in and rested his head against the Praxian's chestplates. "I just want to take you out dancing sometimes."

Prowl wrapped his arms around the other mech and held him close. "I like that idea, Jazz, but I don't know any popular dances."

"What? Not any?" Jazz tipped his head up and looked at the taller mech quizzically. "What about from your academy days?"

The former enforcer shook his head. "There were many traditional and formal dances that we were required to learn, but I was never inclined to learn beyond that. I tended to see popular dances as ...uncultured."

"Not uncultured, love. Different cultured." Jazz released his hold on Prowl's neck and reached down to take the older mech's hand. "Come on, I'll teach you."

"What, now?" 

"No better time than now!" The younger mech smiled and pulled the elder toward the dance floor. "Don't worry; I won't do anything to embarrass you. And nothing like what Blue and the Twins are doing either."

"What are Blue and the Twins..." Prowl looked around until he caught sight of Sunstreaker's bright yellow plating. His optics went wide when he realized the yellow mech and his fellow Praxian were rolling their still-covered equipment against each other in obvious mimicry of interfacing. "They do that in public?"

"Our sweet little sniper has a bit of a wild side," Jazz replied with a laugh. "I don't think that's really your scene, though."

"Definitely not." The tactician paused. "Is it yours?"

"Depends on the mech I'm with. I'm flexible." The visored mech shrugged. "I just like to dance. I'm not too particular about the style."

"Oh." The taller mech felt his wings perk up with relief. "That's good. I don't think I would ever be able to do that."

"No worries, my mech. No worries at all." The saboteur stopped in an open spot on the dance floor and used their joined hands to pull his partner close. Jazz wrapped his free hand around Prowl's back and smiled up at him. "Now, you said you knew some formal dances. Is it safe to assume you learned the Iacon Skip?"

"And the Praxian variant."

"Great." The younger mech activated his comm and sent a quick message. Prowl raised an optic ridge in a silent question. "Just putting in a song request. Give Blaster a minute and he'll pull up something we can dance to."

"But, Jazz, I told you--"

"Ah! I'm teaching you, remember? Trust me."

The tactician nodded. He did trust Jazz, even in a setting where it would be remarkably easy to humiliate him in front of the entire army. "All right. Iacon Skip, you said?"

"Yes." The shorter mech grinned. "You'll see what I mean in a second."

Rather than ask more questions, Prowl waited patiently for the music to change. At first, he wasn't sure what Jazz had been talking about--the new song was a fast, synthesized pop beat--but after a few measures, he heard the five count beat that was the signature of the Iacon Skip. Unconsciously, he felt himself hop on the fifth beat and Jazz grinned widely at him.

"I see you recognize it. Come on, this one goes like this." The shorter mech took the lead, pulling him into a much faster version of the Iacon Skip than the Praxian could ever remember participating in. 

They stepped quickly, though it took Prowl a moment to adjust his more classic style to the pace required for this particular song. The hop at the end of the five count was, apparently, accompanied by a ninety degree turn and then four more steps and another hop. At the end of fifteen beats, Jazz spun Prowl out to the end of their joined hands instead of hopping and Prowl took the initiative to pull the saboteur back to him and take over the lead.

The younger mech didn't complain as they moved through the modified dance. Instead, Jazz beamed up at him as Prowl lead him through a slightly less than traditional Iacon Skip. The dancing and the mech in his arms made the tactician feel freer than he had in many, many vorns.

He wasn't even embarrassed at the gathered crowd's applause when the song ended.

"Mech, do not ever let anyone tell you that you can't dance," Jazz said, cooling system humming. The smaller mech was smiling brilliantly.

Prowl smiled back. "I never said I couldn't dance."

"Popular dances are overrated, then." The saboteur's smile didn't waver. "So I know for a fact that Blaster has some fast waltzes and another couple versions of the Skip. You up for another round?"

"Absolutely. Teach me your favorite variations."

 

_The first thing I thought when I saw them together was that they were a matched pair. They were so in sync that I thought they were twins, too. You can imagine how shocked I was when I found out they weren't even from the same city and they weren't seeing each other outside a professional setting. Back then, anyway._

_Those two spark bonding just cemented something that had always been there._

_**Autobot Sideswipe, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

"Prowl?"

"Yes, Jazz?"

"Please don't think I'm complaining, because I'm not, but I have a serious question." The saboteur spun his energon cube on the table in a nervous gesture that set Prowl immediately on edge. "What are we doing? The dancing and the nights reading in your quarters are great, but is that it? Are we just friends that kiss sometimes?"

The tactician stared at his companion for a long moment, processing Jazz's meaning instead of just reacting to the words. The younger mech seemed concerned out of proportion to the simple way he had asked his questions. "I have never thought we were just friends that kissed sometimes. Every moment I spend with you is one I treasure. You are my friend, yes, but I have long considered you much more than only that."

"So we're not..." The visored mech paused, searching for the right words. "We're not stagnating? No, that's not what I mean. I guess what I'm trying to ask is if this is all we're ever going to be or if you want more."

"Jazz." Prowl reached out and laid his hands over the top of the shorter mech's, stilling their nervous motion. "I would never have sought out a formal relationship with anyone, but what we have developed naturally has been exactly what I have always wanted. We complement and support each other. You complete me. If I seem content with nothing more than we have now, it is because you have already made me happier than I can ever remember being."

"But don't you want more?"

"I want you, and anything you are willing to give me."

"You aren't answering my question, Prowl." Jazz frowned.

"I am answering the question you asked." Prowl squeezed the other mech's hands. "Tell me what's really bothering you."

"I... I want more than what we have now. I love you, so much that it feels like I'm going to explode sometimes, and I want everything that goes with that." The visored mech cycled his cooling system in an attempt to steady himself. "I want the dancing and the long talks and the kisses, but I want the interfacing and the recharging together, too."

"You will have to move into my quarters, then, because I am not sharing that cramped slab you call a berth."

"I get it if you're not... Wait, what?"

"I said you can move in with me." Prowl smiled at his partner. 

"I didn't think you'd be ready." Jazz frowned, clearly unsure how to handle the taller mech's response. "I was prepared for you to say no and now you've got me all messed up."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I will do anything for you?" The Praxian drew the younger mech's hands away from the cube and lifted them to his lips. With another smile, he kissed Jazz's knuckles. "I was always ready. All you had to do was ask."

The saboteur stared at his partner for several long moment before finally returning the tactician's smile. "I love you."

"I know." Prowl stood and leaned across the table. He held Jazz's hands between them as he kissed the younger mech's lips. "I love you, too "

 

_Perhaps, if I had been a more military minded commander, I would have forbidden their relationship to progress beyond friendship but it has always been my deepest joy to watch my friends find happiness in all its forms. Not only did I encourage Jazz and Prowl, I gave them my blessing and performed the traditional bonding rites for them._

_**Optimus Prime, "Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

 

"What a party!" Jazz laughed as he spun Prowl around in the center of their berthroom. "Who knew Ratchet was such a great host?"

"Anyone who attended one of his parties before the war broke out." Prowl smiled at his partner's excitement. The ops mech loved a party, and loved one he hadn't planned himself even more. "Ratchet had quite the reputation when we were younger."

"I wish I could have seen that. Must have been something else." The shorter mech released his partner and fell backward onto their berth. "I wish I could have known everybody back then. Think of all the time we'd have had."

"I prefer to enjoy _this_ time." Prowl settled onto the berth next to the younger mech. "Had you been sparked earlier, there is no guarantee that we would have ever met."

"I think we'd've found each other no matter what. It's like Sideswipe always says: we're two halves of the same spark." Jazz rolled over onto his side and faced the taller mech. With a small smile, he reached out and cupped Prowl's cheek plate in one hand. "You and I are meant to be together."

"Are we?" The older mech kept his tone light, but the question was serious.

"Absolutely." The visored mech's answer was firm and sure.

Prowl smiled brilliantly. He didn't know if he believed two sparks could ever be "meant" to be together, but he did believe that no one else would ever be as compatible a match for him as Jazz. "Then bond with me. Be my other half physically as well as emotionally."

"There is nothing else I want more." Jazz leaned in and kissed his partner. "You tell me when and where and not even Unicron Himself will be able to stop me."

"How about here and now?" The tactician wrapped an arm around the saboteur and pulled him close. 

"What, now-now? Without a ceremony or anything?"

"Why not? We're both here and off duty for the next eighteen groons. We have time. And the traditions do not state that the ceremony must happen first." Prowl gave his intended a squeeze. "Unless the traditions of your people are different?"

"No, not really. I mean, ceremony first is expected in Polyhex but it isn't a requirement. Just, why so fast?"

"Because tomorrow might rob us of the chance. I would rather be your bonded mate for one solar cycle than live a billion vorns without you."

"You do know how to sweet talk a mech." Jazz pressed their lips together again, giving his partner a soft kiss before pulling away and unsealing the lock on his chest plates. "I'm all yours."

Prowl was suddenly nervous, even though bonding immediately had been his idea. He had expected Jazz to be much more resistant. "Just like that? No arguing?"

"Life is too short for arguing." The visored mech smiled. "And I've wanted to be your bond mate for vorns. Not having a ceremony won't make us less bonded, and no one can stop us if we don't say anything beforehand. "

"Have you already been thinking about this?"

"I've spent entire duty shifts thinking about this. If you hadn't asked tonight, I would have some time soon."

"Oh, Jazz." The tactician smiled back at the smaller mech. "I should have known you had already been plotting."

"Yes you should have." Jazz's smiled turned into a playful grin. "Though I wouldn't have waited nearly as long to say something about this as I did about moving in."

"I'm glad to hear that. I don't like feeling like I've neglected your needs."

"I know, and I know that I can say something now. I was just afraid you'd break it off if I moved too fast before."

"Never." Prowl kissed his soon-to-be mate. "I will never reject you for voicing your needs."

"Good." Jazz nudged his partner until the tactician rolled over onto his back. The he climbed on top of the taller mech and straddled his waist. "Now, let's do this. I can't wait to feel you in my spark for the rest of my life."

"Yes." Reassured, Prowl unsealed his chest plates and gave the command to retract them. Once they were fully retracted, the Praxian lowered the plating that shielded his spark chamber.

Jazz stared at his exposed spark with an awed expression. "Prowl, you're _beautiful._ "

The older mech shifted, still uncomfortable with Jazz's easy praise after their vorns together. "I doubt my spark looks drastically different from any other."

"Oh, you say that but you don't see what I see." The saboteur retracted his chest plates and lowered his spark chamber shielding at the same time, then lowered his exposed spark to meet Prowl's.

The tactician would have protested not having the same chance to observe Jazz's spark if he hadn't suddenly been overwhelmed with the sheer _presence_ of the younger mech as their sparks merged. Jazz was everything Prowl knew he was, and so much more.

Jazz was love and passion, paired with intelligence and drive. He was impulsiveness wrapped in a paradox of patience and rational thought. He was music and dancing and _life_.

He was everything Prowl could have ever wanted, and a thousand things that he hadn't realized he needed.

"This is what I see," Jazz whispered, though the older mech wasn't certain if the words were actually spoken or just impressions formed during the merge. Then he wasn't able to wonder as the younger mech filled his spark with images.

He saw himself, standing proud and tall on the ridge that had provided the protective shelter for Jazz's unit at Darkmount Flats. He saw himself at their first dance, smiling brightly and moving with a grace that only a trained dancer or martial artist possessed. He saw himself in a planning session, face serious and demeanor confident. He saw himself, optics shuttered, enjoying the flavor of Jazz's rust sticks. He saw himself comforting Bluestreak, his affection and worry for the younger Praxian evident in the set of his wings. He saw his spark pulsing silver-blue wrapped in a casing the color of brushed copper.

Objectively, he had to admit that he was attractive when seen through Jazz's optics.

Jazz laughed and sent a burst of amusement through their spark link. "I like what you see, too."

Prowl hadn't realized that his mate could see everything he was feeling, but it felt less invasive that he had believed it would. With Jazz, opening his entire being just felt like a natural extension of the trust and communication they already had. "You are exactly what I want, even when give my processor fits."

The saboteur smiled and stretched up to press his lips to his mate's. The motion allowed more of their sparks to merge and the tactician felt himself drowned in sensation and emotion.

Without warning, they were drifting in a space where there was no language and no one else. They knew they were two separate personalities, but they were also one being. There was nothing but love and support for their other self. Sorrow and guilt had no place here; there was nothing left for them but joy.

They felt the promise of eternity pass between them. Then, later, they were surrounded by light and heat and pulled back apart.

Prowl blinked as his system reset after the overload. The shielding was back in place over his spark chamber, though his chest plates were still open and Jazz was slumped over him limply. Both their cooling systems were running on their highest settings. His spark ached.

But, though the pain, he could still feel the bright flicker that was Jazz's presence.

The older mech smiled and lifted a hand to the back of the younger mech's head. Gently, he rubbed his thumb against one of his bondmate's sensory horns. Jazz whined at the touch and batted half-seriously at Prowl's hand.

"No one said getting bonded hurts," the saboteur said, shifting into a more comfortable position against his mate. "Can't believe anybot goes through with it."

"The pain is worth it," Prowl told him. "You are worth it."

The smaller mech nodded. "You are, too."

 

_They always had this look, you know? Where they'd be together and you just knew they were totally in love. Not the kind that's driven by lust or forms because you've just spent too much time together. They were really, really in love and it never faded out. The whole universe could end and Prowl and Jazz would still be in love._

_I hope I'm lucky enough to find someone who loves me half that much._

_**Autobot Blaster, Memoirs of An Exceptional Life"** _

**Author's Note:**

> their exceptional life is not over, of course. there could be more to this series (possibly told in the same format, possibly a different one), but this is where it felt natural to wrap this up. you may all rest assured that Prowl does not die in this 'verse, however, and enjoy a "happily ever after".


End file.
